I wake like I normally do, in the warm, soft, downy embrace of my sleeping bag, knowing this is the most comfortable I will be all day. Particularly today, because I know what awaits us on the other side of the screen.
I’m thankful that I found the bagels and peanut butter at the grocery store yesterday because this enables us to eat breakfast inside our tent without needing the stove. Once outside the tent, we pack with reckless abandon.
We are on the road by 6:30am. I’m ok with our harried start because I’ve reminded myself since waking that there is an expat community in just a few miles, where there HAS TO BE a cafe. I would love to restart my morning with a cup of delicious coffee. But mostly, I would like to have a nice relaxing sit on a toilet and not have to worry about mosquitoes biting my rump.
We turn into one of the side entrances, riding by the golf course, and soon find ourselves in a maze of townhomes. There is no cafe to be found. The situation becomes an emergency. Unable to hold it any longer, I go back out to the road and poop behind a bush, under the billboard advertising the elegant living at the Village of Loreto Bay, my lilly white backside presented to the mosquitoes like a buffet.
It is in this delicate position that I realize my underwear is on inside out. I know this because “You are a goddess!” is written on the inside waistband of my underwear (Thanks Isis!) and it is in this position that I usually see it. However, today it is not there, a reminder of how very far away I am from goddesshood.
Once back to the bike, my butt already itching from the many mosquito bites, I remember that in our haste this morning we didn’t brush our teeth, or last night for that matter. And I haven’t brushed my hair since the day before yesterday. I don’t have a good excuse for that other than I forgot. We have gone feral.
We are crossing Baja again, headed west this time. There is no continuous road along the coast as there is in Oregon & California. Route 1 ping pongs back and forth connecting the major cities as it goes.
We ride through a mountainous area called Sierra La Giganta. They are gigantic and beautifully lush, green like we haven’t yet seen in Mexico. After 45 miles we reach the summit and it opens to a wide plain. We feel like we are on top of the world. Or on top of Baja anyways.
We roll into Ciudad Insurgentes looking battered. My legs are a polka dot array of mosquito bites and a developing heat rash. I’m also regretting not turning my underwear right side in because I’m starting to feel a little chafed. After last night’s fiasco we decide to get a hotel room (though we did pick up another can of bug spray). There are only two hotels in town. One is full so we check into the Hotel Las Californias (i.e. Hotel California). Bad omen?